25. Orpheus

25

ORPHEUS

I know something’s wrong the moment Eurydice walks through the door. There’s a slant to her shoulders that I don’t like, as if she’s carrying the world on them. I rush to her but stop before making contact. We might have shared a bed last night, but that doesn’t mean that she’ll welcome comfort from me. “Eurydice?”

“It’s bad,” she whispers. “It’s really bad.”

Slowly, tentatively, I lift my arms a little. An invitation. She doesn’t hesitate. Eurydice throws herself into my arms and wraps me up tight. She buries her face in my neck. I rub her back with one hand and cup the base of her skull with the other, massaging little circles into the spots behind her ears. “You don’t have to tell me, but if you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

“I knew we were in trouble, but…” Her voice is muffled, but still clear enough. “I mean, Theseus killed the last Hephaestus at Minos’s party. I thought I understood the stakes. I was wrong. We’re all in danger.”

A shiver of fear works its way through me. It’s been bad enough with the Thirteen walking around with targets painted on their chests. It sounds like she’s talking about something more, something that will affect every single citizen in Olympus. My parents. My brother. Cassandra. “You reported to Hades?”

“Yes.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask what Hades intends to do, but he has no reason to have shared that information with her. Eurydice and I might be related to members of the Thirteen, but that doesn’t mean we’re part of the group that rules Olympus. Most of the time we find out information when the rest of the population does. That’s never bothered me before, but right now all I want to do is call my brother and demand answers. Apollo is a good man. If he thought our parents were in danger, he would make whatever moves were necessary in order to protect them. I believe that with my whole heart.

But what if he doesn’t know all the details?

“Eurydice, I have to tell my brother.”

She hesitates. “Please give it a day. Hades isn’t like the rest—or at least the rest beyond your brother. He’s a good person. He won’t let our families be hurt for something as meaningless as politics.”

I might laugh if I didn’t feel so shitty. “Right, because it’s not just my family at risk. I should have thought of that. Your sister and your mother are both in the Thirteen, and Psyche lives in the upper city. Sorry. I keep trying to not be a selfish prick, but I guess some things take longer to unlearn.”

“Oh, Orpheus, no.” She cups my face with her hands. “I had the same thought when I first heard what Ariadne had to say. I wanted to call my mother immediately. But there’s a right way to go about these things and…well…Hades essentially hired me. I answer to him first now.”

I stare at her, not sure what to think. There’s a part of me that wants to tell her she’s out of her mind for thinking that she can operate in Charon’s league. She’s going to get hurt. Except…what if she doesn’t? I don’t know Hades beyond his reputation for being fair. He’s married to Persephone, who is one of Eurydice’s most overprotective sisters. He wouldn’t have hired her if he didn’t believe she was more than capable of doing the job.

More, I’m not going to be the one to dim the light in her eyes. Not again.

The need to call my brother is almost overwhelming, but I wrestle it down. The information about this danger might be new, but the danger itself isn’t. Apollo is on alert. He won’t be caught flat-footed, and I highly suspect that he already hired guards to monitor our parents. It seems like the kind of thing he’d do.

Or maybe I’m just making excuses to do what I want. Just like I always do. I have Eurydice in my arms, and even with a threat against the entire city bearing down, I don’t want to leave her side. Disgusted with myself, I pull away with a bitter laugh.

At least, I try to. Eurydice tightens her hold on me. “Orpheus. Where did you go in your head just now?”

“Nowhere. I’ve been here the whole time.”

“No, you haven’t.” She presses her fingers against my temples. “You were okay, and then you got this look on your face, and I don’t think it was directed at me.”

I should move away again, but I can’t make myself. Not with her touching me. Instead I close my eyes. “After you left, there was a time when I thought I was better off. Then I realized that I was living in a world without color; you took the entire palette with you when you walked out of my life.”

“Orpheus—”

“Please let me finish.” I hesitate for a few moments, but she doesn’t keep speaking. I almost wish she would. Better to focus on her, but that’s just my self-pity talking. “I’ve been a selfish prick. Even losing you wasn’t enough, initially, to snap me out of that. I essentially went through the stages of grief. When I first believed you were gone for good, I was angry at you for blaming me for Zeus’s actions. That stage lasted until Apollo stepped in and cut me off. I tried bargaining with my brother afterward. I’m sure you can imagine how well that went. I spent the next six months depressed, barely able to get through my day.” I curse and shake my head sharply enough to dislodge her fingers. “Fuck, I’m still doing it. I don’t know how the fuck to stop being so selfish. I try. I swear to the gods that I’m trying. I just keep fucking failing. How can you and Charon stand to be around me?”

“Orpheus, look at me.”

I don’t want to open my eyes. It’s a childish fear, as if by keeping my eyes closed, the heartbreaking truth won’t be real. As long as I don’t see her expression, I don’t have to acknowledge the anger and recrimination there. Maybe she could pretend that I’d changed, but after what I just told her, she’ll know I haven’t. That I might not be capable of changing. Now’s the moment she will send me away, and I deserve nothing less. Keeping my eyes closed won’t change that.

But she told me to open my eyes with that bite in her tone that I can’t disobey.

Eurydice isn’t looking at me with anger. The emotion she’s wearing is far too complex for that. There’s some anger there, to be sure, along with sadness and bitterness and even a little pity. But mostly it’s…sorrow, my mind supplies. What I’m seeing is…sorrow.

She doesn’t step away for me. “It hurt. That night when everything happened, the physical pain I experienced was nothing compared to the knowledge that you valued me so little you were willing to let me die for your ambition.”

Horror closes around my chest. “I didn’t—”

“I know. At least I know that now. I didn’t know anything that night, not beyond the kind of fear that made me worried my heart would burst.” She looks away. “I forgive you. I’m not saying you didn’t share plenty of blame for what happened, but for all the time leading up to that night? It took two of us to get there. I was just so happy to be standing in your sunlight, I didn’t care there was nothing left of me. I didn’t know who I was, Orpheus. I wasn’t confident enough to tell you when you did something that made me feel small.”

The feeling in my chest sprouts fangs and claws. “I never wanted you to feel small. Not even on my worst day.”

“I know.” Slowly, she presses her hand to my chest. “I guess my point is that we both have changed quite a bit in the last year, but some things are really hard to unlearn. More than that, I don’t think you’re nearly as selfish now as you were when we dated the first time. That man would never have even considered noticing he was being selfish, let alone worrying about it. And, for the record, you’re not being selfish to worry about your family. I’ll say that as many times as it takes for you to believe me.”

Ironically, her words make me feel better…and worse. “I don’t understand why you don’t hate me. Things made more sense when I was scrubbing Charon’s floor.” Penance. I haven’t paid nearly enough of it, no matter what she thinks. If Charon was here, he would understand.

Her nails prick my chest through my shirt. “If you want some degradation, I’m happy to oblige. But only because it’s something you want, not because it’s something you deserve.”

“Eurydice—”

“Don’t you get it? Your whole fucking life right now is penance, Orpheus. You haven’t been painting, which was the one thing that brought you pure joy. Best I can tell, you lost all your friends.”

“Turns out, they weren’t much of friends to begin with,” I mutter.

Her smile is sad and a little sharp. “I know. Now you know too. Your brother cut you off from the family purse. You’ve been miserable for months. It doesn’t change what you did, but it makes it a lot easier to forgive you. I can’t demand you forgive yourself—I wouldn’t dream of doing so—but you might want to try it on for size. Especially if you’re serious about wanting to build a life here.”

“Build a life here,” I echo. “Is that actually an option?”

“We’ll talk about it when Charon gets home.”

Because he is the other corner to our triangle. He’s a good portion of the reason why Eurydice has found her feet. He sure as fuck is the reason why I came to the lower city in the first place. He gave us the framework for this thing. I don’t know that we’d be having this conversation at all if not for him. “Okay.” I cover her hand with mine. “What can I do in the meantime to make you feel better?”

“I think we both could use a little comfort right now.” She turns her hand to interlace her fingers through mine. “Come on.”

As she leads me up the stairs, my heart starts to pound. Wasn’t I just thinking that Charon is the other corner of our triangle? Being sexual with Eurydice while he was present felt…safer. I wasn’t as worried about us bruising each other on our sharp edges. Not when he could step in at any moment.

It isn’t to the bedroom that Eurydice leads me. She takes me down a small hallway that I haven’t explored to a closed door. The look she shoots me is almost guilty, and I understand why the moment she pulls me inside.

It’s an art studio.

An unused one. I drop Eurydice’s hand and move about the space, my mind empty of thought. It’s not an exact replica of the one in my old apartment, but all the pieces are there. The easel with the oversized canvas I prefer to paint on. The oil paints in my favorite brand, all unopened and untouched. A slightly smaller selection of brushes than I normally use, but all of my favorite ones are there.

I turned to look at her. “What is this?”

“An…invitation. I know this is high-handed, and I’m only slightly sorry for it. You need something to do, Orpheus. You need this. I saw your face when you had the brush in your hand last night.”

I feel exposed. There’s an impulse to strike out, to do something to burst this fragile moment where she sees me all too clearly. But then, Eurydice has always seen me more clearly than others. Before, I was arrogant enough to think it made me almost godlike in her eyes. Now I understand that, for all the good she sees, she is equally aware of my flaws and dark underbelly. All the things I would hide from the world, laid out for her perusal. “You spent too much.” That, at least, is a reasonable response.

“It might’ve been my idea, but this gift isn’t from me.” She moves to the comfortable-looking chaise positioned in such a way that someone sitting on it can watch the person at the canvas while still being out of the way. “If you want to throw a fit about it, take it up with Charon.”

I turn slowly, taking in the room through new eyes. “Charon did this?”

“I suggested we collect your things from your apartment in the upper city, but he muttered something about new beginnings. I provided the information about the products you prefer to work with, but he did the rest. Or rather, he sent one of his people to do the rest.”

I don’t know if that changes things or not. I don’t know how to feel at all.

Without meaning to, I run my fingers over the plastic that covers the canvas. It’s been so long. I don’t know if I even know how to paint anymore. Last night was as much about Eurydice and caring for her as it was about the paint itself, but she’s right. It felt good to have a brush in my hand again. I turn to find her perched on the chaise, watching me closely. “You didn’t really answer my question, you know. About what would make you feel better while we wait for Charon.”

Her smile is soft and sweet. “I thought it was obvious—I’d like to watch you paint.”

Something almost like fear tears through me. What if I’ve forgotten everything? Surely painting is just like any other skill—use it or you lose it, or however that saying goes. Can a person lose their inherent talent? I’m sure it’s possible, even probable.

“Could I paint you?” The question’s out before I can think of all the reasons she’ll tell me no. Before, the only way she’d agree to it was if I promised no one would see those pieces but the two of us. I held to that promise, even at my most selfish. Truth be told, that impulse was selfish too. I didn’t want to share her with the world.

Eurydice stares at me, and there’s a moment of perfect understanding between us. We can never change the past that got us to this place, can never erase the scars she has because of my carelessness. But right here, right now, we can begin again. Maybe we can even do it right this time.

She smiles. “Yes.”